The bellowing of drunkards

Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat. Theres a sparkle in the streets and we're all wearing daft hats. Theres a tottering of heels and the skirts are getting shorter. I'm comfortably drunk, lets not go any further. I'm a poet, I'm a lover, a raconteur to discover. I'm a bellowing drunkard, and you're my treasure to be plundered.

You smiled at me. Yes you did. You smiled at me first, don't try to deny it because I won't buy it.

I saw you through the sway of heads and tambourine hands.

I saw the spotlight gaze on your face. 

Not that I told you any of that.

Christmas is coming and the band drowned me out. You said, do you want to dance? Of course l do. I said, I can dance, I can jive, we can have the time of our lives. I can jiggle and I can wiggle, I can giggle and I can wriggle, I can jerk and I can twerk, and I can love you, forever.

Not that I told you any of that. Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat, and I danced around like old man Jack. My bellowing drunkards my fame they did all proclaim, you're the king, the king, you're our great king. I'm delightfully drunk. You held my hand. I'm the happiest man in this land.